


grow up so fast

by a_perfect_melody



Category: bare: A Pop Opera - Hartmere/Intrabartolo
Genre: Angst mostly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Family Fluff, Friendship, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_perfect_melody/pseuds/a_perfect_melody
Summary: She misses her first period and barely even notices. Too caught up in the play, in her grades, in trying to forget Jason, she just isn't paying attention. And, when she does finally notice—when Tanya asks for a spare tampon and Ivy remembers the unopened packet in her bedside drawer—it doesn't cause her much worry. It's natural, she tells herself. Probably just stress. Nerves for the play. Nothing to worry about.
Kudos: 5





	grow up so fast

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! I wrote this fic as a part of the Bare secret santa exchange over on tumblr. For musicallad, thank you for organising such a great event and I hope you enjoy this gift! 
> 
> Prompts Used:
> 
> Characters: Ivy, Nadia, mentions of Peter  
> Songs: All Grown Up  
> There's some found!family fluff towards the end but the majority of this is Ivy-centric angst. 
> 
> (quick disclaimer that I do not own Bare: A Pop Opera. But I highly encourage you to go listen to it, if you haven't already!)

She misses her first period and barely even notices. Too caught up in the play, in her grades, in trying to forget Jason, she just isn't paying attention. And, when she does finally notice—when Tanya asks for a spare tampon and Ivy remembers the unopened packet in her bedside drawer—it doesn't cause her much worry. It's natural, she tells herself. Probably just stress. Nerves for the play. Nothing to worry about. 

. 

About a month later, the nausea nestles in, finds itself a home.

She's sitting in math class, scribbling sketches of Juliet in her notepad and avoiding Matt, who keeps glancing at her from across the room, when Zac leans forward and shakes an open packet of sour cream and onion chips in her direction. 

She registers rather than hears the question he asks her, because she's already on her feet, rushing from the classroom into the toilets, where she throws up her breakfast in the sink. Stomach churning, she bolts herself into a cubicle and sinks down onto the closed toilet seat, her legs trembling. Is everything okay? a little voice asks because, despite popular legend, she's not stupid and a missed period plus vomiting raises alarm bells magnified in her mind. 

She doesn't have time to answer the question because her stomach turns again, and the rest of second period is passed retching into the toilet bowl. 

. 

The next month, she swears her clothes seem just a tad bit tighter. 

She spends the evening in the chapel, praying for the period that, in her heart, she knows won't come.

. 

"Hey," she pulls Tanya aside as they flock from Sister Mary-Anne's English lesson, lowers her voice as they head for their lockers. "Have you ever- ever missed a period before?"

Tanya laughs. 

"Sure. Once. Thought I was going to fail the history SAT last year." She squeezes Ivy's hand. "I'm sure everything's fine. You're probably just stressing about Juliet. Which you shouldn't, by the way," she gives Ivy a stern look. "You're going to kill it, I promise."

Lucas catches up with them and Ivy waves the two ahead, pretending to fish for something in her locker as she watches their retreating silhouettes clasp hands and laugh at an inside joke. Jason walks past her and she feels an ache somewhere deep in her chest. 

. 

An uneasy routine is created and settled into. The second period never arrives and she does her best to ignore it, and chalks up the cramps to dodgy cafeteria food. She learns to avoid the canteen on Fridays when they serve fish because the scent makes her stomach churn—a delicate sense of smell, she tells herself. Hormones. 

Please, she prays at night, when Nadia is fast asleep. Please make this go away.

. 

Lonely, is what she finds herself, that last semester of St Cecelia's. In a way, they all seem to be lonely shadows, solitary figures flickering on the fringes, ghosts of the people they used to be but, then again, maybe not. Maybe she's just spent too much time reading old poetry and plays in the library. Never thought she'd be taking a leaf from Nadia's book but here she is. Reading distracts her, these days. 

Jason hardly speaks to her and Ivy's expected that, prepared for that; its awkward between them and rehearsals are even worse. The expectation of this breakdown doesn't make it any easier and she spends many a night trying to find the courage or the words to confront him. You said you wanted me, she wants to cry, you said you saw me. She says nothing to him, in the end. Where would she even begin? 

She can barely look at Matt; he begins to avoid her and she him and their friendship, or whatever the fuck they were, extinguishes like a flame that's burnt it's course. 

Peter's absence hurts her the most. They've been constants in each other lives since they were twelve; the worst fight they've ever had was over a stolen yoghurt and it lasted barely ten minutes. But now, he will hardly talk to her, will hardly talk to anyone and won't even look at Jason. Ivy's known Peter long enough to be able to tell something's bothering him but he's cryptic in his responses to her, vague, and for once, she can't figure him out. 

She pulls away, quietly, from her friends. Sticks to the library and the empty auditorium, lying on her stomach and skimming through endless plays and sketching stick figures on scraps of paper, her palms, the white sleeves of her shirt. 

Tanya grabs her after lunch, one day, looks around and says, "you got your period, right, in the end? It came?"

"Yes," Ivy finds herself saying, watching the relief fill her friend's eyes and wishing she could be dealt the same naivety. "Last week."

"Knew everything would be fine," says Tanya and hugs Ivy before hurrying off to fling her arms around Lucas, a few feet away. 

Ivy steels herself against the locker, takes three shaky breaths, and walks into geography as though nothing is wrong. 

. 

"Is that my sweater?" Nadia demands, as she drops her bag on the floor, pointing an accusing finger at Ivy, who's cross-legged on her bed. 

Ivy, who'd woken up that morning and forced herself to look in the mirror where she swore a slight bump was just happening to appear and knew she had to hide it, swallows. 

"I thought you wouldn't mind," she whispers. Nadia looks taken-aback at the lack of a biting retort. 

"Is this- some kind of joke or something?" She asks, looking around as though she expects to see gullible scrawled on the ceiling. "You're mocking me, aren't you?" Perhaps without realising, Nadia tugs at the hem of her shirt. "Well, really funny," she spits. "They should hire you at SNL."

"Well, I'd offer you a trade but you can't fit into my clothes," Ivy snaps back and Nadia glares, leaves without another word. 

. 

It ends up being accidental. Taking the pregnancy test. 

She's in the drugstore, picking up some makeup remover for herself and some cheap lipgloss for Tanya when she knocks it off the shelf by accident and kneels to pick it up. 

99% accuracy, it boasts. Quick, easy, and secure! She drops it again, as though it's red hot. 

The second clattering startles several customers and Ivy hurries to grab it, holding it close to her chest and, with another glance at the packaging ("Results in three minutes!"), makes a split-second decision. 

. 

Those three minutes she waits in the drugstore bathroom are the slowest of her life. She sits, with heart-pounding anxiety, on the closed toilet, head in her hands as she counts to a hundred-and-eighty. Fumbling as she reaches to see the results. Hears the plastic clattering against porcelain as it falls into the basin. Closes her eyes. Breathes. 

.

She wanders the halls of St Cecelia's with new eyes. Sees people without really seeing them, hears their laughter and wishes she could be sixteen again. Aches to belong with them, in their childish innocence, wishes beyond anything that she can go back and change the clock. 

Lost in her reverie, she walks straight into Jason, who clears his throat uncomfortably when he sees her, and attempts to side-step so he can pass.

"Sorry," he says and ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. Ivy stares at him with wide eyes, horror curdling her heart. "Uh, I'll see you at rehearsal later?" He asks. The words she has to say bristle at the corners of her lips, ready to spill from her mouth, engulf him—she has to tell him, she has to—but her voice withers and dies in her throat. 

How does she tell him? Where does she begin?

Instead, she nods and, not quite managing a smile, flees for the sanctuary of the library. 

. 

She misses the rehearsal. And the one after that, the one after that, and certainly the one after that which is the dress run as she sure as hell won't be able to fit into her costume. She's three months along and there's a definite bump in her stomach, perhaps not so noticeable to outsiders but damning enough that she's taken to donning an old oversized cardigan she found in a thrift shop. She finds herself sinking into it, sometimes, when she's sitting in class or at lunch with her friends, wishes she could disappear into it and float away. 

"What's the excuse this time?" Nadia says flatly, arriving back from the fifth consecutive rehearsal Ivy's missed and folding her arms. 

"Period cramps," Ivy says (ironically, she thinks). Tentatively, she adds, "did it go well?"

Nadia snorts. 

"Would've gone a hell of lot better if Juliet had been there."

"Looks like you've finally got the chance to steal my role," Ivy replies before she can stop herself and pulls back the covers. "I'm going to bed."

"We haven't had dinner yet," Nadia points out and Ivy bites back another scalding remark. 

"I'm tired," is all she says. "I'll see you later." 

. 

In her head, she paints the version of events where she tells Jason and everything's okay, where he hugs her and says they'll figure it out, maybe even where he tells her he loves her back. The reality is much harsher; a day goes past and then another and each time, the words seem to grow fainter and fainter in her mouth, until she can barely taste them at all. She watches him from a distance; talking to Lucas, running through his valedictorian speech, practicing his lines in empty corridors. She envies him his ignorance in the matter. 

And, then, one day, she's sitting in the library—hiding from Rory who's been on a mission to drag her into practice ever since she missed the tech run last week—when something makes her stand, takes on her shaky legs to the door of the rehearsal room, where she's sure to find Jason, where she can tell him and he'll hold her hand, say that everything's going to be fine. 

Instead, she finds a full classroom and a scene in full swing: Jason performing Pilgrim's Hands with Peter in her place at his side.

Silently, she watches the two of them dance together, sees the way they look at each other—the way Jason never looked at her—and something clicks into place. Or does it? Perhaps she just ignores it, pushes it to the back of her mind because she wants to, because she needs to, needs to believe in a reality where Jason could possibly love her back. Deep down, though, she thinks she knows. It's not until after that she'll think this—after being weeks and weeks from now—right now, all she can do is watch.

"I need to talk to you," she says to Jason, after people have begun disperse. "It's important."

"Fine," he says, rolling up his script. "What do you want to talk about?"

Ivy glances around, afraid one of their classmates may be hiding in the wings. 

"Not here," she says finally. "Jason, I-"

"Before practice, then," he says curtly. "Ivy, look," his tone softens slightly. "I need to finish my speech. But you're coming to rehearsal, right? I can't do this scene without you."

"It looks like you can," she says and she doesn't mean to but she's upset and scared and the cluster of cells growing inside her stomach aren't going anywhere. Jason's face flashes with something undefinable; he turns away from her and she wants to grab him and tell him everything's going to be okay and scream until her lungs go hoarse and run far, far away from here but she doesn't. She leaves him alone instead, tripping up the steps as she hurries to her dorm. 

. 

Surprisingly, Nadia's the first one she tells. 

It all comes tumbling out, as Ivy turns the mobile phone over and over in her hands, her thumb hovering over her mother's number, unable to work up the courage to call. There's a photo too, one Ivy found buried under mounds of clothes and balled up homework while she was beginning to pack. It's an old one; the gap-toothed, chubby-cheeked kids grinning up at the camera have been gone several years now but she recognises parts of them; Nadia still has the same smile, Jason's dimples haven't changed a bit, Peter still has that silly old sweater somewhere. 

Nadia takes it, while Ivy explains; while everything comes spilling from her lips. She tells her everything and watches Nadia's face crumple in the half-lit gloom. 

Nadia says nothing when Ivy finishes. There's a moment or two when Ivy wonders if Nadia will say anything at all and, then, the next thing she knows, Nadia's wrapping her in the biggest hug, tears rolling down her face. She lets go almost as quickly as the embrace had begun—they haven't hugged in four years and awkward doesn't even begin to cover it—but she remains holding Ivy's hand and they sit there a while, in a sort-of comforting silence. 

. 

The next few hours pass in a blur. She remembers telling Jason, remembers hesitantly reaching for his hand, meeting his eyes with pleading intensity. Please, she says, please let's get through this together. 

And then she remembers Matt and the hurt clouding his features, making them blurry, unrecognisable as the boy who'd save everyone a seat at the lunch table as he spits at Jason, venomous words leaping from his mouth and drenching them all in poison. 

"He's already in love with a boy," Matt hisses and there's a collective gasp as Ivy turns to see their classmates entering, all of them stopping dead in their tracks. She meets Peter's eyes, cheerful for the first time in a long time, sees his face fall as he realises what's happening, watches him push to the front as he searches for Jason. 

"What's going on?" He asks and he so desperately wants to be proved wrong. "Why are-"

"Ivy's pregnant," Matt spits and Ivy closes her eyes. "Ivy's pregnant, Peter, and your boyfriend's the fucking dad. So what does that make you?"

Ivy doesn't remember much after that. 

. 

Shouting. Lights. The curtains are down. 

The dress is too tight. Everyone's whispering, giggling, excited. Beneath the folds of their costumes, Nadia squeezes her hand. 

A clink of a bottle from somewhere backstage. Peter hurries in, half-crying as he grabs his sword. The music begins before she can ask what's wrong. 

Shouting. Lights. The curtains go up. 

Dancing. Masks. Romeo and Juliet meet on a darkened stage. 

Dread pools in Ivy's stomach for reasons she can't discern. Jason stumbles. And then he falls, sprawling to the floor and not getting back up.

Shouting. Lights. The curtains come down.

.

The funeral is awful. She suffers through it in the only black dress she has, holds her head high when people whisper and point in the chapel. Peter has it worse, she thinks to herself, half the school won't even speak to him anymore; she sits close to him and gently squeezes his hand. 

. 

And then, it's over. Graduation comes and goes and everything seems to have lost its colour. Ivy goes home, works up enough courage to tell her mother and then works up even more to telephone Jason's parents. 

It's not pretty and everybody cries a lot and endless cups of coffee are made and passed out but, at the end of it all, she makes her decision. 

. 

Six months later, she gives birth to their daughter. 

. 

Jenny becomes their light over the next few years. Peter turns out to be a natural; her face lights up when she sees him and he's the only one who can get her to stop crying when she just won't stop. Nadia, who's always fiercely sworn that babies hate her, dotes upon her; buying the kid enough cuddly toys and building blocks to last a lifetime. 

And for Ivy, Jenny gives her a reason to get out of bed when the world seems too much to face. Seeing her daughter's smile begins to mend the pain and the heartache and, she thinks for all of them, that helping look after Jenny distracts them from their grief. 

. 

When Jenny is one, Ivy packs up their things, says goodbye to her mother, and heads for college. She finds one with an on-site daycare and extra help for single mothers and signs herself up before she can convince herself not to. She gets her art history degree and Jenny gets her first steps and, slowly, things begin to get better. 

. 

That's not to say everything is perfect. The birth of their daughter doesn't cancel out her feelings for Jason and learning to un-love him is a painful process that takes her a while. In time, she forgives him too. 

Being a mother is hard, a single one even more so. Sometimes, she'll lie awake at night, just as did when she was in high school, and wonder about Jason; where he is, if he's alright, if he would've been a good father to their daughter. 

She likes to think so, she decides. 

. 

Peter tells her most things eventually. She doesn't pressure him and understands there are some things he needs to keep for himself but she's grateful he trusts her enough in the first place. 

They hug for a long time and she hopes to God she never loses him.

.

Years pass and she never stops missing Jason but the ache of it dulls after a while, makes it easier to think about him without her lungs seizing up. 

Somewhere along the way, she and Matt sit down and they talk. They'll never be friends the way they used to but that's okay and he hugs her and she invites him to meet Jenny before he leaves. He speaks to Peter as well but what's said between them is none of Ivy's business and she never asks. 

Friendship springs back with awkward interludes between her and Nadia. It takes a while to smooth out four years of jibing and arguing but they both try and, eventually, it's enough.

. 

And suddenly a decade has passed and their little girl is turning ten. 

Jenny doesn't want a big party with lots of kids and loud noise so Ivy plans a small barbecue instead. Just family. 

Peter brings Connor, the new guy who also teaches at the college; they've been dating six months now and Jenny's obsessed with his soccer skills. 

"Nice to see you too," Peter says, rolling his eyes fondly as Jenny forgoes the pleasantries and drags Connor away into the garden. "I guess that means you don't want your present?" 

Jenny looks back at him and sticks out her tongue. 

"Upset you're not the favourite anymore?" says Ivy, grinning as she takes the gift and places it on the table. 

"I'm always the favourite," Peter reminds her, grabbing a handful of chips. 

"Sure about that?" says Nadia, letting herself in and plonking her own package down on the counter. "You haven't seen what I've got Jenny yet."

"Bribery doesn't count," Peter argues. "If you have to bribe someone to like you, it doesn't count." 

Nadia merely shrugs, the corners of her mouth curving into a smile. 

. 

It turns out bribery does count, in the end. Jenny tears the wrapping paper off the bright purple bike basket, hurries outside to where the new bike lies propped against the wall, and promptly declares Nadia her favourite person ever. 

Subtly, Ivy sees Nadia shoot Peter a smug look. 

. 

Lucas and Tanya arrive late but bearing enough chocolate and candy to make up for it, along with the next book in a fantasy series Jenny's been reading at school. 

"Did you miss us?" says Tanya, throwing out her arms melodramatically and dropping a packet of twizzlers. 

"Aunt Nadia got me a new bike!" Jenny says in response, already ripping into the sour patch kids. "It's purple!"

"Don't worry," says Peter, nudging Tanya and pretending to be offended with Jenny. "You get used to it, not being the favourite."

"You're all my favourites," Jenny insists, beaming at them all, enough to soften even the hardest of hearts. Her eyes, so much like her father's, crinkle as she giggles, running away from Lucas as he pretends to race her for the M&Ms. 

In this moment, they are happy. Ivy looks around and hopes, with all her heart, that wherever Jason is, he is happy too.

**Author's Note:**

> so, I have mixed thoughts about what Ivy would do in regards to her pregnancy, canonically. In this version of events, I had her carry out the pregnancy full term & keep the baby but I could just as easily see her doing otherwise, especially if we take into account some of the lyrics in All Grown Up. Who knows? Anyway, I had a great time writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading! X


End file.
